so a while ago ari sent me two prompts to choose from for karek and valinder, and i wrote the first one myself. the second one ended up being a collaboration between me and giddy, since aal valinder is his character (he wrote all of valinder’s bits, i wrote all of karek’s). both of these take place after this one. they’re kinda sequential, so read em in order if ur confused. the prompt, i believe, was “No. Don’t you dare shut me out!”
Not many people came to the Room of a Thousand Fountains this late in the night cycle.
That was why Karek liked it, particularly when he wasn't looking for the company of his peers. Valinder didn't count, of course, but the other apprentices tended to put out so much energy, and Karek was tired. Down to his bones, he was tired. Too tired to sleep.
He had wedged himself in among the smooth roots in the assari grove, back against the trunk, eyes closed. Breathing. Trying to match his pulse to that of the tree, to be one with the flow of its life force. Anything to take his mind off of his Master's hand cooling and stiffening in his grasp.
It had been only a few days since her death, and in that time he had spoken to hardly anyone other than Valinder, and to him only briefly. It took so much effort. Everything did.
It was not often in their enduring friendship that Aal had to wonder where Dav was. Perhaps that was because they had very few secrets between them. No, that wasn’t entirely true. They hadn’t hidden a single secret from each other, ever. Not one.
So even when Dav was as a ghost - silent, pale, willing himself to disappear - Aal wasn’t long to find him. Master Tor’ath at told him to let him be to meditate on the matter as he had also instructed Aal to do, but...Dav had never been alone before.
Also in the throws of grief, Aal was unsure what to say. Instead, he watched his brother’s face a moment, hovering at the edge of the glade. After a moment he spoke softly “...brother?”
It would have been difficult for Karek to miss Valinder’s approach, attuned as he was to the assari grove and everything in it, but as the other boy spoke to him, his sense of connection to the tree’s roots, its leaves rustling in the artificial breezes, the other trees, all narrowed and shrank until only Valinder’s voice was left, his warm pulse.
He didn’t want Valinder to see him this way. Tired, a faint crease between his brows and at the corner of each eye, and each eye darkly bruised underneath from lack of sleep. Tracks of long-dried tears on his cheeks. He looked bad, and he knew it.
Although if he were honest with himself, it was he who didn’t want to see Valinder. Didn’t want to be treated gently, to be looked at with the pity he sensed from the other Jedi in the Temple when they looked at him. Iridan Solai had been well liked and respected as a Master and a kind teacher; many grieved her loss, and Karek knew he shouldn’t resent them for it. But they didn’t know her like I did, he thought again, and again reminded himself, it is not your place to deny them their grief.
“Does sleep elude you as well, my friend?” He kept his voice calm, pitched no louder than it would have been if Valinder had stood at his side. He knew Valinder would hear.
“Not if I did not will it to be so.” Aal matched his comrade’s tone. An odd, dissonant thing it was when both their bodies were sending off strong signals of distress. Though Aal was working to sooth his heart, every syllable he ventured was triggering nervous palpitations. Why did he feel as though he were on the verge of misspeaking, of Dav scolding him? He’d never felt an ache from the other boy like this, nor the possibility that Dav would not want his company. “I haven’t seen you since...well, all day. I thought I might find you here.”
It took a moment of uncharacteristic length for Karek to formulate his response, for there were many things he could say that would hurt his friend, and he was determined to never do that. You know very well you can find me here whenever I am unable to find sleep. I came to be alone. I came to forget, if I could, that I watched my Master die in front of me because I could not save her. Because you might have been able to save her, but you were not there. For her, or for me. Not your fault, but all the same, she is dead and I do not want to see you at this moment and I have never not wanted to see you and I hate it.
Karek drew in a breath - not a steady one - and tried to imagine the exhaustion and irritation flowing out of him along with the contents of his lungs. “I’ve been practicing meditation,” he said simply, in the end, because it was both true and not strictly an invitation.
The repulsion Aal was feeling from Dav was so palpable, it was almost physical. Nevertheless, Aal had planted his feet firmly, his stance confident he should be there. Though his discomfort was telling him otherwise...leaving Dav alone did not seem right. Tor’ath did not know him the way Aal did, and...despite the Council seeming sure Dav would be ready to face the Trials, how could they not see he was still in need of guidance?
There was still so much they had to learn: things they did not know. It was not fair Dav should have his lifeline cut so suddenly. “I shall join you.” Dav wouldn’t like that, but Aal didn’t care. Why should Dav have to be alone?
Well, he couldn’t stop him. Once Valinder decided something, Karek’s protests never seemed to matter. He closed his eyes; he didn’t need his sight to know Valinder’s exact position among the assari roots, or the way he folded his legs beneath himself as he sat and arranged the long skirt of his tunic.
“Did Tor’ath send you?” As soon as he spoke the words, he realized how accusatory they sounded. Did he send you to watch me? To calm me, to distract me from my grief? Am I not allowed to grieve?
Aal could feel the resonance in his chest from his low laugh. “And when has my master ever sanctioned my midnight wanderings, eh?” The laugh faded from him a little faster than normal at his brother’s antipathy. “Don’t direct your anger at him, brother. I am the one who missed your company.”
Despite himself, Karek smiled. “I suspected as much. Forgive me. I would have thought my company would be less than desirable at present.”
“Am I to care less about you because you are in mourning?” Aal asked quietly. “You shouldn't say such things.” Because they stung. “I would have hoped you did not think so little of me, brother.”
“Forgive me,” Karek said again, softer this time. And, after a breath and a pause, “You know there are few beings of whom I think more.”
“Forgiven. For your flattery.” Aal smiled, and gave Dav a gentle shove on the shoulder, then his hand stayed there. “Dav. How are you?”
“Well enough. I did not drink the poison.”
He should make Valinder take his hand away. He didn’t want to do what he knew he would inevitably do, which was let all his focus fall onto the warmth of his friend’s palm and let that awareness chase everything else out of his mind. Karek wasn’t sure when he had formed this dangerous habit, of focusing in absolutely on Valinder’s touch, his vital warmth. It must have been sometime recent - perhaps that moment in the medbay of their transport ship, when he had pulled Valinder up onto the cold metal bed and clung to him and cried, and then ultimately turned his face away and fallen asleep with the heat of his brother’s body at his back.
Karek did not ask Valinder to take his hand away.
Such a biting comment was unlike Dav, and it unnerved Aal slightly. “Yes. And I am glad you did not.” Why would he say such a painful thing? “You know it was not an exchange for your life or your master’s.”
Karek shook his head, impatient that Valinder would misunderstand him so entirely. “I tried to do what you did. When I was poisoned. I couldn’t do it, Aal. I felt her dying, and I couldn’t stop it.” His voice had started to waver, and he sprang to his feet, pacing away from the tree and its embracing roots.
Opening his eyes, Aal watched Dav go. He could give him that much space, at least. “Most venerated masters can't achieve stasis. You know that, too.”
“I know, but you can, you could have - if the Council hadn’t separated us, you could have been there, if the pirates hadn’t come, if we hadn’t been on comm silence, if -”
Aal stood up slowly, closing the space between them while Dav was talking. “It doesn't matter if I could have or not, brother. That's not what happened.”
Karek wasn’t sure why he had bothered with the what ifs when he knew how little patience Valinder had for them. “I know. I’m - sorry.” He didn’t turn around as Valinder drew up behind him. He could feel the beginnings of tears pricking at his eyes again, and while Valinder had certainly seen him cry plenty of times, this time, for some reason, Karek was ashamed.
Feeling Dav on the verge of that emotional brink was stabbing Aal, too, and he wrapped his arms around the other boy, resting his head on his shoulder. “Dav. Dav, I'm so sorry,” his voice was quivering, he was shaking.
Karek didn’t want to turn around and see his own pain reflected in the eyes of his dearest friend, so he bore the one-sided embrace, hands clenched into fists at his side, head bowed. My friend, I cannot comfort you too. I cannot even comfort myself. “What do I do?” he whispered, and a tear fell from the end of his nose.
“I suppose we'll take our trials now,” Aal mumbled into Dav's tunic.
He shook his head. “You may be ready, Aal, but I’m not.”
“Is the Council giving you time?” Aal lifted his head. “They say patience is my virtue. I can wait.”
“I don’t know.” Karek made an effort at leveling his voice, helped along by the comforting weight of Valinder’s arms around him. “I have yet to be summoned.”
“Solai was a second master to me,” Aal continued, choked, and tightened his arms, “It is as a large window left open, wide, and I cannot close it. So cold.” In every way that Tor’ath was stringent and unyielding with Aal, Solai had been warm and understanding; she had been their mother. He had wept bitterly when Tor’ath had given him the news, though the man had not left him to it long.
Valinder’s aching grief swept over Karek with the strength of a summer storm. He knew exactly the feeling his brother described, and when he turned at last in Valinder’s arms, he saw the exact mirror of his own grief, just as he had expected. Why should he have thought, even for a moment, that he and Valinder might feel differently about something they so closely shared.
Karek opened his mouth, his fingers flexing against Valinder’s upper arm, but it took him several attempts before he could speak. “I know. I’m sorry.”
At this, he felt a resurgence of the sorrow both of his own and from his empathy. Aal wept openly on his brother's shoulder, taking a moment to give Dav a half-hearted nudge on the chin and said, “You should have let me see you sooner, you fool.”
Perhaps the only thing Aal could offer was his eloquence, or his slightly more apt ability to give name to his feelings, but he knew he would have done his brother more good than naught.
Hiding his wet face against Valinder’s neck, Karek nodded miserably. I know.
Hadn’t it always been this way for them? On every one of the rare occasions that Karek mistakenly decided to shut his brother out, for whatever reason, it hurt both of them and made things worse. Why hadn’t he learned that lesson by now, with both of them on the cusp of Knighthood? Assuming they both passed the trials, they would be separated far more often, flung to the far corners of space on whatever missions the Council chose for them. One day they could very well both have their own Padawans to train and care for and take with them out into the vastness of the galaxy, and they would have to rely on their bond within the Force to stay connected to one another.
Clinging to Valinder now, with his face in the other boy’s neck, Karek could not even conceive of separating himself from this, his lifeline. “Aal,” he said in a voice rough from crying and shaky with the weight of what he intended to say. “What if neither of us attempt the trials? What if we just - leave?” Then the life of the Jedi would not keep us apart.
Even as he spoke, he knew he asked the impossible.
“Dav, we - ” Aal began, astonished, but stopped when he saw Dav's face. He was serious. He meant that. Forgo all their training and comrades and abandon the purpose behind it all.
“Brother. You aren't in your right mind.” With a knuckle, Aal altered the course of the stream running down Dav's cheek. “Wait before you decide.”
Why he said this rather than refusing the boy, he couldn't say. Perhaps Aal would do it later.
“Here. You must be exhausted. Come.” Taking Dav's hand, Aal guided him back to the roots of the tree and settled down with Dav beside him, a secure arm around his brother's shoulders. They had slept like this on occasion many years ago as younglings. It had been quite some time and the fit was far more snug, but it was familiar and comfortable.
“You won't spend a night on your own until you're ready, brother.”
How had he known? How had Valinder guessed that Karek had yet to sleep through the night since Solai’s death, alone in the quarters he and his Master had shared, lying awake on his side and staring at the space where the second sleep couch had been? Yes, the cloud of fatigue that had settled heavily over him would be noticeable to anyone, but Valinder had, as always, guessed the exact thing that had been bothering him immediately. Karek sniffed and drew his sleeve across his face, smiling a little. “What does Tor’ath have to say about that?”
“Peh,” Aal waved a hand, “Something stern, I’m sure. But he will forgive me, of this I am equally sure.”
“Yes, he always seems to.” Valinder had never shown much remorse when scolded, by Tor’ath or anyone else. He genuinely believed, in most things, that the action he had taken had been the most just, the best he could have done under the circumstances. The only time Karek had seen a scolding touch him was on the ship back from the mining conflict, after he had put Karek’s poisoned body into stasis - a forbidden technique. Then, Valinder had been miserable, more upset than Karek had ever seen him.
Karek could feel his mind slowing down, his tense muscles relaxing, with every moment he spent in his friend’s embrace. His eyelids began to fall shut. “Thank you, Aal,” he mumbled, letting his head rest against Valinder’s. Time enough to think on the future later.
Aal put a hand on the back on his brother’s head, listening to his breathing growing steady. His gaze was upwards, staring at nothing in particular, lost in thought.
Perhaps it was best the two of them postponed that discussion for a time. They were both emotionally vulnerable, and could be tempted to decide...rashly. It was important to consider all the years they had spent disciplining their minds and bodies, and the good they were meant to uphold. There were going to be many battles they would face to advance the cause of the light, and there were so many lives depending on them following through.
Yes, there were more lives than the one belonging to the boy - well, he supposed they were very nearly men now - on his chest. He had to remember that.
Postponing that conversation wasn’t entirely for Dav’s sake. Aal knew his own mind, and if he had made it up that night, he wouldn’t be swayed by later logic.
And he couldn’t help but wonder at the fact that when Dav had pondered leaving, he had envisioned them doing it together. Aal could not have seen it any other way.
